


The Panther Sleeps Tonight

by Agent25



Series: One Love for the Heart [13]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Singing, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 05:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15879525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent25/pseuds/Agent25
Summary: “In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…”“James,” a quietly aggrieved voice murmured from the other end of the bed.“A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh.”“You know I hate it when you sing that song."OR:Bucky serenades his love, T'Challa is not here for it.





	The Panther Sleeps Tonight

_“In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…”_

“James,” a quietly aggrieved voice murmured from the other end of the bed. Bucky ignored the warning as he laid sprawled on his back, head and feet bopping back and forth in time as he belted out his tune. His eyes were trained on the thatched roof above them.

_“A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh.”_

A longsuffering sigh.

And then…

“You know I hate it when you sing that song,” T’Challa rumbled from his perch on the soft mattress. He was at the head of the bed, propped up by numerous pillows as his hooded eyes watched Bucky with mild consternation. Bucky was at the foot of the massive bed, head near to hanging off as he wiggled in place.

“C’mon,” Bucky crowed as he turned his big, blue eyes on his partner; pink lips puckered out in a perfect pout. “It’s a classic!”

He threw his head back and continued crooning, now at a higher pitch than before. _“Near the village, the quiet village, the lion sleeps tonight.”_

“James,” T’Challa pleaded as his eyes tilted heavenward, “Please.”

Bucky paused mid _a-weema-weh_ , mouth clicking shut as he breathed in deeply. He sent a nod towards T’Challa.

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed, fiddling with his fingers as they rested on his stomach. “I promise not to sing _that_ song.”

T’Challa held his gaze for a long moment before softening. He leaned his head back into his pillow, body relaxing as he deigned to close his eyes. “Thank you.”

Silence. A blissfully peaceful silence.

He should have known it wasn’t meant to last.

_“It's gonna take a lot to take me away from you, there's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do!”_

T’Challa’s eyes snapped open.

“For Bast’s sake,” he groaned aloud as the decibels of Bucky’s singing increased, clearly intent on giving the classic ballad his very all.

 _“I bless the rains down in Africa_ – hey!”

A swift kick was all it took to send an unsuspecting Bucky to the floor below. T’Challa listened with relish as Bucky gave out a mighty _oof_ when he landed in a precarious tangle of limbs. Bucky laid there dazed and confused, the world spinning around him in topsy-turvy circles. When he came to a moment later, he immediately burst out into loud laughter.

The laughter made whatever smidge of guilt T’Challa may have felt for unceremoniously upending his lover disappear as he remained on the bed. He felt an answering smile cross his face as he listened to Bucky howl with glee.

Bucky laughed long and hard, until his stomach ached and tears were pooling in the corners of his crinkled eyes. By the time he was done, his chest was heaving and he was panting, his cheeks flushed from such exertion. He easily bounced up to his feet, aiming a glare T’Challa’s way.

The king seemed unconcerned with Bucky’s ire as he stretched out his legs, lazily regal and infuriatingly self-composed in a way only he could ever achieve. He was dressed simply in tan pants and a tribal sweater that hung off of him as loosely as a shawl. It was connected by an elegantly woven neckpiece laid across T’Challa’s shoulders as majestically as a crown would atop his head. The effect left his stomach pleasantly bare, allowing Bucky to feast on the sight of every dip and line of T’Challa’s impressive physique.

“Like what you see?” T’Challa asked with a teasing grin, his head tilting towards Bucky leisurely.

Bucky was instantly broken out of his distracted reverie, eyes quickly darting away so as not to give T’Challa anymore satisfaction.

“Hardly,” he countered with a snort, reaching for the nearest pillow. He hurled it at the prone monarch, but damn those panther reflexes, T’Challa was able to grab it out of midair before it could make contact with his head. Bucky huffed out a disappointed breath.

“You know,” he began as he crossed his arms in a sulking pose, “Most people are happy when their other halves serenade them.”

“You call that serenading?” T’Challa laughingly inquired, a wide grin splitting across his face. “I thought perhaps a cat was dying somewhere.”

It took everything in Bucky not to grin and break his mask as a highly insulted lover. He had to bite the inside of his cheek so hard he nearly bled. But it stopped him from chuckling or launching himself at T’Challa for some payback wrestling which, win or lose, he always _won_ , if you caught his drift.

No, Bucky remained standing with a miffed frown on his scruffy face. “I’m insulted,” he announced to the room before spinning on his heel and stalking forward.

“James,” T’Challa called from the bed.

“No, no,” Bucky forlornly remarked over his shoulder as he continued walking, “I’ll go somewhere where my talents are appreciated.”

He wove his way through their home for the weekend.

Out of nowhere, T’Challa had whisked him away for a long weekend in Wakanda’s equivalent of a bed and breakfast: a treehouse high above the savanna. They were floating above the endless plains, nestled securely on a sea of green treetops. Three trees even erupted through the treehouse, making them a part of the scenery. Bucky patted one as he sauntered past it, heading towards the large outdoor balcony.

He breathed in the fresh air as he stepped out, his bare feet padding silently over the wood. The sky before him was a deep and rich red with the impending sunset. The sun, a glimmering golden orb, was slowly descending to the horizon in the west as it cast a brilliant light across the breathtaking landscape. The evening air was warm and sultry as it pressed down upon Bucky’s shoulders.

He stopped at the railing, his hands settling on the wood as he leaned forward, his blue eyes taking in the fantastic scenery that was so readily on display. The copse of trees that the treehouse was situated on was at the banks of a large watering hole.

The water was strikingly blue and endlessly still as floating lily pads speckled across the water’s glistening surface. Across the way a flamboyance of flamingos were gathered together, their long necks were elegantly bent and their pink feathers shone in the dying light of day.

Bucky watched in rapt attention as a noise caught the flamingos’ attention. Moving like a finely tuned machine, the birds took off at a run, breaking the water’s intoxicating stillness. They took to the sky in perfect uniformity, their stately wings carrying them as they flew.

Bucky’s ears pricked as he heard massive footsteps crashing through the underbrush. A moment later a lone elephant lumbered from the forest, coming to a stop right at the watering hole. Its wrinkled trunk dropped to the water, guzzling up the refreshing coolness before yanking it up to bring the water to its mouth. It continued that same process several times until it had drank its fills.

All the while the sun continued its plunge towards the westward horizon. More wildlife had emerged and were drinking from the giving water and Bucky watched them eagerly. T’Challa – as always – had been right: a weekend away from their duties in the Golden City had proven to be a most welcome respite.

Even if T’Challa did make fun of his singing.

Speaking of the king, Bucky could feel his presence behind him. Even if he moved as soundlessly as his feline namesake, Bucky could always feel when T’Challa was nearby, he was that attuned to his partner.

T’Challa came up from behind, pressing himself into Bucky’s back even as his arms settled on either side of the super-soldier, bracketing him in between himself and the railing. If it were anyone else, Bucky would feel trapped and suffocated by such an invasion of his personal space. It was the complete opposite with T’Challa, the man could never be too close. Bucky always wanted him closer, wanted them tangled together so closely that he wouldn’t be able to tell one limb from the other.

Bucky let out a breath as T’Challa’s warmth seeped into Bucky’s body, heating him from the inside. He felt the weight of T’Challa’s chin tucking into his shoulder, anchoring the king to him. T’Challa seemed just as content to watch the beauty of nature unfold before them as Bucky was.

It was almost a surprise when his hushed voice broke through the silence.

“You know,” he murmured softly, his hands settling on Bucky’s waist. “I do not mind your singing.”

An involuntarily smile crossed Bucky’s face as he leaned back into T’Challa. He turned his head, catching the king’s dark eyes as he tried to press his luck.

“Does this mean I can sing _Circle of Life?”_

“Absolutely not,” T’Challa was quick to fire back in a serious tone.

Bucky snorted quietly, his head dropping to T’Challa’s shoulder as he breathed the man in. “Well, I had to try.”

T’Challa tightened his grip on Bucky’s waist, arms wrapping around the super-soldier as he kept him close.

“My baba used to sing lullabies to me when I was a boy,” he revealed between one breath and the next. Bucky tensed in anticipation, he _always_ paid attention when T’Challa spoke of his late father.

“They were about our ancestors and the great spirits within Wakanda. I could teach them to you, if you wished.”

Affection rippled across Bucky’s skin as a slow smile spread across his tan face. He reached down with his vibranium hand, interlocking his and T’Challa’s fingers as he squeezed once, expressing his gratitude to the king behind him for being willing to share such treasured memories with him.

“I’d like that,” he responded, his voice catching only slightly. Luckily T’Challa ignored the bout of emotion.

“Good,” the warrior declared before his voice took a teasing turn. “They are infinitely better than Toto.”

Bucky comically gasped. “You take that back.”

T’Challa threw his head back and laughed freely, never relinquishing his grip on his partner. Bucky could feel the vibrations of his laughter through his back as they traveled up and down his spine.

T’Challa’s voice was summery in his ear as he responded, “Never.”

Bucky good-naturedly rolled his eyes.

In this case, they’d just have to agree to disagree.

Around them, night continued to fall on the Wakandan savanna.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's definitely been awhile since my last winterpanther story. Sorry for the delay! I still have a lot of ideas, so hopefully more of these bad boys will be coming in the future. 
> 
> Please review! I always love hearing from you guys. 
> 
> Pic time! 
> 
> The treehouse:  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157032205@N05/44388878902/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157032205@N05/43529540915/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> Bucky:  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157032205@N05/43529541115/in/dateposted-public/)
> 
> T'Challa:  
> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/157032205@N05/43529541005/in/dateposted-public/)


End file.
